


It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time

by MikeJaffa



Category: Bakuretsu Tenshi | Burst Angel
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:20:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26815744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MikeJaffa/pseuds/MikeJaffa
Summary: Meg’s desire to make good on her New Year’s Resolution reminds Jo of just whose bright idea it was that she and Meg run around in their underwear.  (Three guesses.)
Relationships: Jo/Meg (Bakuretsu Tenshi)





	It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: Put down food and beverages while you read this.  
> DISCLAIMER: Burst Angel is owned by Gonzo. I am making no money off this fic.

“Kyo?”

“Coming, Meg.” Kyohei put the hand towel on the rack under the sink in the trailer’s kitchen and followed Meg back to her and Jo’s room.

Seated at the kitchen table, reading a gun magazine, Jo’s eyes flicked away from the page as she processed what she had heard. Meg had invited Kyohei back to her and Jo’s room. That fact by itself was worthy of note. Had Sei invited Kyo to her room, there might have been comment/teasing -- their mutual-unacknowledged-crushes had to be the worst kept secret in the trailer -- but it wouldn’t have been seen as unusual. He would have been welcomed into Amy’s lab. Jo herself didn’t mind hanging out with Kyo and could see herself letting him into her and Meg’s room.

But Meg?

Jo put down the magazine, got up from the table, and headed back to the room. Jo noticed two things right away:

1\. Meg was sitting cross-legged at the head of the bed, pillows propped behind her, smiling pleasantly.

2\. Kyohei sat primly at the foot of the bed, apparently relaxed. 

These facts were doubly incongruous when Jo considered two things that were NOT happening:

3\. Meg did NOT have her .38 snub nose revolver (or any other firearm) aimed at Kyo.

4\. Kyo did NOT have multiple gunshot wounds in his chest consistent with any firearm Meg had access to.

Of course, this could all have been because of Sei’s prohibition against shootings in the trailer. But short of being caught making out with Takane on the kitchen table (which would have raised questions about his taste in women), Jo could not imagine what Kyo could have done to have warranted Sei putting a contract on him…so the situation was more like triply incongruous.

Jo leaned against the wall by the door and decided it was best to just listen. 

Meg was saying: “…what you have to think about, Kyo, is what differentiates you from everyone else. You’re not the only person going to France to study, probably not even the only Japanese. You need a hook, you need a--” Then Meg noticed Jo. “Oh, hey, Jo! Kyo and I were just talking.”

“I can see that,” Jo said as she went to sit by Meg. “About what…and why?”

“Oh, I thought I told you,” Meg said. “Well, I am acting on my New Year’s resolution to be nicer to Kyohei.”

“I thought you were drunk, Meg,” Jo said.

“No, Jo, I’m serious. I am going to make good on it. So I’m advising Kyohei on how to market himself to restaurants and kitchens in France. What do you think?”

Jo said, “What do I think…?”

/  
/

**….SEVERAL MONTHS AGO…**

“Jo, wake up!”

“Mmmm--” Jo’s eyes opened with a start. She recognized the small apartment she shared with Meg, who was shaking her. “I’m awake! What?”

“Those girls next door, Yuki and Mina, are selling some of their stuff, and they said we can get a good deal.”

Jo got out of bed and put on her jeans and a t-shirt. “Yuki and Mina? You mean those two strippers?”

“Exotic dancers,” Meg corrected. “Show some respect.” 

Once Jo had finished dressing, Meg and Jo went next door. Thought slightly older than Meg and Jo, the Japanese dancers were about the same size. But Jo found herself being little more than a mannequin as Meg picked clothes out. Jo found herself saddled with a purple halter top with a cross on it, red bicycle short chaps and panties. Meg glommed onto a yellow top, yellow chaps, a blue skirt and matching panties, and -- of all things for a transplanted New Yorker -- a cowboy hat.

Back in their apartment, Jo asked the inevitable question: “Meg, what’s this stuff for?”

“Our merc gigs.”

“What? Dressed like this!?” Although Jo didn’t remember anything from before she’d met Meg, she was pretty sure about what constituted modesty and what didn’t. The clothes they had bought were definitely under ‘didn’t.’ 

“We need a hook,” Meg said, “something to differentiate ourselves from other mercs -- even other female mercs. I’ve checked and all their clothes are utilitarian. How to stand out? By sexing it up. Much as I hate to admit it, sex sells, and potential clients will get off on the mix of sex and danger we’ll embody.”

“At the cost of any practicality.”

“Jo, you’ve knocked guys out just after getting out of the shower.”

“That doesn’t mean I want to work naked, Meg.”

“And you won’t be.”

Jo sighed. Clearly, this part of the battle had been lost, and she knew better than to keep trying. “What’s with the cowboy hat?”

“Reminds people I’m an American.”

“What…Meg, you’re from New York City! I don’t remember a lot of people running around in cowboy hats. Or am I wrong?”

“No, Jo, you’re right, but lots of people outside the United States -- not just in Japan but other countries -- don’t realize how big it is; they think Houston, Texas is just a quick run down the New Jersey Turnpike. Besides, there are as many Japanese who think people still run around in Old West clothes as Americans who think the samurai are still running around Japan. Go figure. If it gets us money, I’ll go along with anything.”

“Oh kaaayyyyy….In that case, Meg, have you noticed it’s getting colder--”

“Jo. Have I taken care of us so far?”

“Yes.”

“You trust me, right?”

“Yes, Meg.”

Meg put a hand on Jo‘s cheek. “Then don’t worry about it, baby. I’ve got this.”

Jo sighed. “All right.”

Meg smiled. “Oh, one more thing: When you put the panties on, wear them low enough to show some butt crack and still keep your privates covered. That‘s the in thing now.”

“Uh…Ok, Meg.”

/  
/

Jo shivered as she stood by the car outside the store. They’d landed a bodyguard gig that had taken them back to the United States for a couple of weeks. Their client wanted their protection during a two week ski trip to Colorado.

In January.

Jo had her coat, but its insulation wasn’t very thick, and all she had were her chaps, her halter top, and her panties.

In a nutshell, she was freezing her butt off.

Meg bounded out of the store. “Client’s coming out.” Wearing nothing but her ‘sexy cowgirl ensemble,’ Meg seemed perfectly relaxed even though the temperature was minus brr on Jo‘s private ‘IT‘S BLEEPING COLD!!’ scale.

“Meg?”

“Jo?”

“Why aren’t you cold?”

“Heat tabs in my clothes. You have them too, right?”

“No!”

“Aww, you should have said. Remind me after we get back to Japan next week and I’ll try to remember to look into it.”

/  
/

Jo sneezed. Her cold had come on her a week after their return from Colorado, and now -- dressed in little more than her halter, panties, and chaps -- she had wrapped herself in a blanket and lay shivering in her and Meg’s bed.

Meg sat on the edge of the bed. “Aw, poor baby.” She put a hand on Jo’s forehead. “Yep, honey, you’ve got a fever. But no worries.” She held up a can. “I’m going to make you some chicken soup.”

“Uh, Meg, you don’t cook very often--”

“Relax, Jo. I’ll take care of this.”

/  
/

Shivering as much from her cold’s fever as from the cold outdoor air temperature, Jo held her blanket around herself and leaned against the ambulance as she looked up at the smoke pouring from the window of what had been her and Meg’s apartment. Fire trucks filled the streets, and fire fighters were climbing ladders and still shooting water in through the window.

Jo noticed a cowboy hat moving through the crowd of emergency personnel and watched Meg come over to her. 

Meg was as unflappable as ever. “Well, the fire detectives let me off the hook,” she said. “They can’t believe it, but they said I should never cook again.”

“Huh,” Jo grunted.

Meg grinned and held up a bundle. “And they gave me back your guns and ammo, as well as our money and documents.” She held up her phone. “And we just got another job. So I’ll finagle a place to stay for the night out of it. C’mon!”

Meg turned and headed a way. After contemplating and discarding the idea of shooting Meg in the back (partly because she was in no shape to dispose of the body), Jo started to shamble after her.

/  
/

**…THREE MONTHS LATER…**

Jo stood at the picture window in the townhouse and marveled that Meg couldn’t see how ecstatic she was; it’s not like was Jo was trying to hide it. And with good reason. This Sei who had recruited them after the Cyberoid mafia job had shown up wearing black BDU’s; and Jo was pretty sure this was the same Sei who’d been mentioned in connection with the Bailan triad. Sei’s no-nonsense demeanor had only reinforced Jo’s belief that Sei would not only dress conservatively but insist that her employees adopt a modest dress code. And that meant the months of suffering without any pants on were about to end. She couldn’t wait.

“Jo,” Meg said behind her as a door opened, “here she comes.”

Jo turned and felt stunned, and not by the 11-year-old girl in pony tails and a pink outfit with a bare midriff. Sei had a white halter top that barely covered the upper halves of her breasts; and brown pants that were almost down to her privates.

Not quite what Jo had expected.

“So, uh,” Jo stammered, “is it casual dress day or something?”

Sei smiled. “No, this is how I usually dress. The one place where I buck tradition. And if a man is gawking at your breasts, he won’t see the knife in your hand.”

Meg grinned. “My sentiments exactly! Good to meet a kindred spirit. Now let‘s talk business.”

“Of course,” Sei said. “I’m sure you’ll find my terms agreeable…”

Seeing Meg and Sei agree on Meg and Jo’s…clothing…made Jo want to cry.

“Yeah, uh…” Jo said. “I need some fresh air. Can I step outside?”

Sei pointed at the spiral staircase that came down through the middle of the living room. “Rooftop garden is at the top of those stairs.”

Jo got onto the roof and came to the edge with a view of Tokyo’s skyline.

And she spent five minutes screaming at the top of her lungs.

/  
/

**…WHICH BRINGS US BACK TO…**

“…Well,” Jo said, squirming a little. 

Meg looked at Jo with a smile.

Jo cleared her throat. “Well, Meg, I think being nice to Kyo is a good idea. He’s a good guy and a good cook and has come through for us several times, pretty much going above and beyond the call. So yeah, that’s a good resolution to keep.”

Meg nodded.

“On the other hand,” Jo went on, “when it comes to cooking at the professional level -- and that’s what we are talking about here, that’s what he wants to do -- I think Kyo knows that better than we do about that, and we should let him handle it.”

“You think so, Jo?”

“Yes, Meg. By all means, be…nice to him, you know, polite; don’t treat him like dirt. But let Kyo handle the professional cooking stuff. I think he knows what he‘s doing.”

“Well…” Meg pondered, then brightened. “Ok!”

Jo nodded, then turned to Kyo. “Kyo, you have to get home to study for a big test, right?”

“Yes, Jo.”

“I’ll walk you out to your scooter…”

/  
/

When Jo and Kyo got to the scooter, they looked back at the trailer door to make sure no one was following them. Then they both let out long breaths.

Kyo started to put on his helmet. “Thanks, Jo. I owe ya.”

“Ah, just bring over some of those exotic spices you keep mentioning and we’ll be even. One more thing, Kyo: If you ever lose your memory, do not swear undying loyalty to the first person who saves your life. Spare you a lot of ulcers.”

“If I remember that.”

“There is that…”

THE END


End file.
